Saved
by DiAngeloFan
Summary: She had been staying away from the world, from her creation, for too long but the Moires had other plans. Now she is forced to stand against everything she hid from to save those who denied her power and forgot about her. She is Chaos.
1. The Beginning

As the sunlight shone through the windows of the room, falling onto the leaves of the potted flowers, the woman who was watering them tightened her grip on the water can. Something was stirring or rather, someone was stirring something. She could feel it in her bones, her whole being vibrating along with the power of those who decided to make her life a little more interesting. With the corner of her eye, she saw the reflection of a light and the sillouete of a man, one foreign to her little enclosure, but she continued watering her plants and pretended to ignore the demigod behind her. The woman could smell the faint traces of dried blood, a stench that she could only place as the waters of Styx but the most prominent of all smells was that of salt water and seaweed. Poseidon. The Moires were playing a game she could not yet understand but she decided she would let it unravel all by itself. She had all the time in the cosmos after all.

Placing the water can down on the table next to her, she caught the reflection of the man before turning around. Her golden eyes studied him, his unruly black hair and the sea green eyes, the armor that threatened to dissolve into rubble, celestial bronze plates covered in blood and mud, and the confused look on his face. Before he could let a sound out of his opened mouth, the woman held a hand, turning around to look directly at him.

"You were dying, weren't you?" Her voice sounded like bells to his ears. As he looked in her eyes, he could no nothing more than nod. Something about her presence made him feel at ease, yet commanded a great respect, something that the son of Poseidon didn't fully understand. The woman before him wasn't tall nor she was short. She stood at exatly the same height as him, perhaps a few milimeters shorter. She she had a hair that reminded him of the caramel apples, the ones that nice old ladies sell at funfairs, the long locks of hair tressing down to the small of her back. He could not place her age and although her face looked young, Perceus had the feeling that she was much, much older. The boy finaly managed to gain control of himself, stopping his eyes before they wandered down her body and fixated them on her eyes. It took him several seconds more to finally raise his voice, sounding raspy and tired.

"Who are you?" Percy asked her, his inner self immediately cringing at how rude he sounded. He could not remember much more than the fact that he was dying but he felt tired, as if he had been fighting an entire war. Even death was not a memory, it was more of a cold feeling in his gut, behind the navel. He wanted to question why, he wanted to question everything that was around him but he could not open his mouth. The little physical strenght that was left in him was leaving him and his head was spinning. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes and collapsed on the tiled floor was the face of that angel of a woman, ever so stoic but there was something glistening in her eyes. Worry.

The next time Perceus opened his eyes, he was met with white ceiling and a feeling of a slight weight on his stomach, an object that seemed to be purring. A gray cat with fur that seemed to be glistening in a shade of blue he wondered if it was just a part of his imagination, was lying on his stomach, sleeping. His memory seemed to be returning and he could only close his eyes as the waves of memories came crashing. The battle of Manhattan, Luke's sacrifice and the feeling of pain in the small of his back, being attacked from behind. Everything else after that was hazy, and the only thing he could recall before meeting the mysterious woman was the sound of a spindle. Nothing else. He knew he was supposed to be dead and yet he knew those were not the Fields of Asphodel or the Elyseum. And the caramel haired woman was nowhere to be seen.

Against his better judgement and forgotten about the creature sleeping on his stomach, Percy sat up and looked around the room. The feline hissed in displeasure as it jumped down from him and sat down on the ground, staring at him intensely. The thought of being intimidated by a cat seemed ridiculous to Percy as he looked around the room. He was laying on a recliner in something that looked like a study or a small library. Next to the recliner was a small coffee table that had a single cup on it and a note next to it _. Drink me._ Again, against his better judgement Perceus lifted the cup, only to be met with the pleasant smell of ginger and cinnamon. Tea. He felt like he needed it.

It seemed that lady luck was on his side. Just as he set the now half-empty cup down, the feline jumped right on tip of him and if he had held the fine porcelain, it would have been shattered on the fine polished floor by now.

"Ignis! How many times have we talked about jumping on the guests?" It was the same voice, this time stern, yet still full of the motherly warmth he was now able to place in her voice. Her eyes shifted from the cat to him, and he felt he could not look away from her orbs of melted gold. That same air of respect Percy felt earlier had returned. Next to her was another feline, this one orange but with a golden glow, similar to Ignis'. The orange cat pounced on the gray one on top of Percy and on the woman's lips, there was a small smile.

"Those are Ignis and Aether. And I am Chaos, Perseus Jackson."


	2. Heaven and Hell

"So .. You are the first goddess there ever was?" The black-haired man asked her as he placed a hand on one of the feline's head, scratching behind its ears and was met with a little nudge, as if the gray-furred cat wanted more. He just continued to pet the creature while his eyes never moved away from Chaos. He was afraid that if he pulled away his eyes, she would dissapear and his miraculous saving would be nothing more than an illusion. Percy Jackson honestly wanted to be alive.

It wasn't the first time the Moires had send her a hero to nurse back to health, for her to get attached to so they could send back to Earth and leave her again alone and suffering. Sometimes she wondered if this was her punishment for sins unknown or for those known and that was a particular question she didn't want answered, not ever. Her golden eyes travelled across Percy's face once again, this time looking for any wounds and her gaze was stopped only by the sight of his half-burned shirt that did nothing to cover him. His armor was long removed, from the moment he fainted in her greenhouse but now, she needed to take a look at something that didn't leave her thoughts for a moment since she noticed his scent.

"Take off your shirt." Her voice was calm and not at all possesed by the embarrassement that was creeping on Percy's face. It was like the awkwardness and the slight _sexual undertones_ of those words never reached Chaos' ears or mind. He mentally slapped himself in the face, just for those thoughts alone. She was a goddess, she could probably read his mind and could strike him right where he stood. Yet, figuring out he had no other choice, or rather something in him told him to just obey her and he lifted up the ripped shirt from his body, managing to leave it with less holes than when it was on his body, the weaker strands of cotton tearing and almost ripping the cloth in two. He bit his lip and dropped the pieces of fabric on the polished floor, waiting for her to scold him or kill him.

None of those ever came, as the woman simply walked behind him, prodding her rather sharp nail, as he noticed, into the small of his back and scrunching her nose. The stench of Styx was ever so present, attacking her nostrils, the smell of something so vile yet familiar to death in her little dimension was the one thing that was making her uncomfortable. Has the Olympians gotten in trouble again and used the poor child as a pawn to do their dirty work, she wondered. It was possible, as the last hero that was here had the same fate. She was unsure how much time had passed since the olive-haired maiden was taken away by the Moires, but the young girl had told her a story of the divine junkyard and the automaton that killed her. It made her sad most of all, rather than angry and furious with the Olympians. They risked the life of their children, and of countless mortals because they wanted something done, something they could do for mere seconds. Having dozed off along with her thoughts, the woman finally removed her finger from Percy's back, a small crescent shaped mark only left on the tanned skin.

"You have bathed in the Styx." It was more of a statement than a question and Perceus found himself nodding along her words. It was something about the presence of the goddess that couldn't let him be anything else but truthful. He felt the need to make her content, to bid her every wish but unlike with Aphrodite, he didn't feel forced to do it. In the depths of his mind, Percy wondered where did the extend of her powers reach and if she was the first goddess, the one who created all, why wasn't she the one ruling Earth instead of Zeus. The questions were quickly forgotten as the woman motioned for him to stand up and follow her. As the caramel haired goddess walked out of the room, the demigod followed her, looking over the giant windows that adorned the hallway outside the study. Outside .. it was breathtaking. He could not find another word for it. Everything, to the end of the horizon, was covered in trees, like a lush rainforest that encircled wherever Chaos' home was. The only thing that didn't seem normal was the bright orange sky that stood above them. At the both sides of his vision, he could see a river flowing towards the horizon, one of them looking as if was made of fire. Having momentarily stopped to look at the river, almost enchanted by it's fiery waters, he once again heard the goddess' voice, although the tone of her words was not as motherly-sounding as before and he wondered what he did wrong.

"This is the river Phlegethon. It starts from here, from me, flows through the underworld and into _Tartarus_." Her tone was bitter, as if the name if the endless pit left a bad taste in her mouth. "He is my child, and Styx," She gestured to the other river and Percy had the feeling she was not very fond of, "Is my son's wife. Unfortunately." The goddess knew she was starting to sound like a bitter old lady, it was one of her many moods she had gotten accustomed to, in this little place, yet she couldn't truly hate the river nymph that had taken her son's heart. He was happy after all. Chaos opened the doors at the end of the hall and Perseus found himself greeted by a vast meadow, covered in flowers he had never seen before and he could swear he saw a deer in the forest from the corner of his eye. It was the most beautiful place he had ever seen.

"This is Arcadia, Perseus Jackson. Welcome." She spoke, the warn tone returning as she gestured for him to walk outside, under the orange clouds.

 **Intermission**

 ** _The Underworld_**

"Help me, my love!" The voice sounded stranded, raspy and just like her husband's, Persephone observed as she stood near the endless pit that was keeping her father-in-law prisoner once again. The hero, the son of Poseidon that won the war and helped them defeat the Titan was dead and the spring goddess could not help but feel rather melancholic. Perseus was a friend of her step-son and no matter how bitter she was about her husband cheating on her, she was not Hera. She did not kill her husband's children. She did not hold a grudge against a child that had no fault for her husband not being able to keep it in his pants. But right now, the voice that called to her concerned her. Her husband, the last time she spoke to him, was going to Olympus for things that she was not concerned with, and yet, now, she could hear his voice coming from Tartarus. Has Kronos tricked him, made him fall into the pit? As she inched closer and closer to the ethernal darkness, something caught her ankle, pulling her right into the prison.

Oh, the clueless summer child, falling right into the trap. Kronos never thought it would be so easy. A woman's body was not something he desired, but he took what he could get and a goddess was better than a demigod, even a goddess of spring and flowers. The little strenght he had left would be enough to take over the weak goddess' body.

As Persephone fell through the pit, the pain that overtook her body was unbearable. She could hear every single scream of the weaker titans, but none was louder than her own. It was messing with her brain, it was messing with the whole of her being and she was unsure of what is true and what is not. She was unsure of wether a millenia or mere seconds had passed, all she knew was that she was falling and falling and it seemed like she would never reach the ground. All she could feel was pain, clouding over her memories and her thoughts. Nothing more.

As suddenly as the pain started, it stopped. She feld slender fingers around her wrist, pulling her out of the pain and into someone's chest. Just before she opened her eyes, she hoped, deep, deep down, she hoped it was her husband, but those thoughts left as soom as they came. She couldn't recall her own name, and she thought she had a husband? This was insane. Surely, she was insane.

The man who pulled her out was slender, with sharp lines, a jaw and cheekbones that she was sure could kill a man and a messy, black bun of hair on top of his head. The aura around him was something the woman had never felt before and it was strange she thought of that, as she had no memories of feeling anything, anything at all beyond the pain of the darkness.

"Come, child. I know who can take care of you, and I will take care of my _grandson."_ Grandson? The man looked no older than her. Surely, she was going insane, the madness finally taking over, or maybe she was not the one who was insane. Her thoughts were jumbled, none making sense and the only rational thing for her to do was to follow the the man along the shores of the fiery river she just noticed.


End file.
